Just One Dance
by GeniaTheParadox
Summary: A fluffy little drabble. John convinces Sherlock to just one dance at their wedding reception. Mainly dialogue and with some very subtle references to sexy times.


This is just a fluffy little drabble, since it feels like forever since I published anything and I can't seem to think of any new smut to write. I suppose this sort of goes with my Johnlock proposal fic, _Forever_, but you don't have to have read that to get this.

I think I've reached a new milestone in my Johnlock shipping, since I now have a fic about their wedding. If only I could think of a proper parent!lock fic, then I'd know I've made it.

Anyway, chuck some reviews at me. Like Holmes-Watson wedding presents.

And I'm not nearly smart enough to have invented Sherlock. I'm just making him marry his blogger.

* * *

**Just One Dance**

"Honestly, John. You know how much I hate these social functions."

"Mycroft was the one who organised this. It would have been rude not to turn up."

"And since when have I ever cared about being rude to Mycroft?"

"Well, what about all our guests? You can't just stand here, ignoring everyone all night."

"Why not? I'm having a great time. And anyway, there are only about four people here who I actually like, and one of those is you, which doesn't count."

"Come on, Sherlock, _please._"

"I don't dance. I have no idea why this is coming as such a shock to you."

"Just once, just for me."

"Emotional blackmail, John? Really?"

"Yes, really. Sherlock, it's our wedding day. I just want to have one little dance with my new husband, which really shouldn't be so much to ask. Afterwards I promise you can go back to standing in the corner and glaring at everybody."

Sherlock sighed in defeat. "..._fine_."

John smiled and took Sherlock by the hand, leading him to the middle of the dance floor. They swayed along to the slow love song, John's arms around Sherlock's neck, Sherlock's hands on John's waist.

"See, not so difficult, is it?"

"I never said it was difficult. I just said I didn't want to."

John chuckled. "Remind me again why the hell I agree to marry someone so insufferable?"

"Because you love me. And, old fashioned traditionalist that you are, you needed our love to be legally binding and government approved."

"_You_ were the one that proposed to _me_, Sherlock."

"Only because you wanted me to. I was perfectly happy with the two of us just living together, but it was clear that you wanted it all made official – the ring, the ceremony, the double-barrelled surname..."

"Stop pretending like you didn't want to marry me. As much as I know you hate to admit it, you _cried_ when I said yes."

"There's really no need for you to say that out loud, John..."

"You cried real life human tears of joy, Sherlock Holmes-Watson."

The corners of Sherlock's mouth twitched into an almost-smile at the sound of his new full name.

"Yes, fine, okay, whatever. But I still don't see why Mycroft had to throw us this stupid party. He knows I hate parties."

"It's a wedding reception, Sherlock. We may have gotten away with sneaking off to the registry office with Greg as our one and only witness, but there was no way in hell that Mycroft was going to let you get away that easily. He just wanted to properly celebrate his little brother's nuptials, even if the little brother in question didn't."

"I can think of several ways I'd much rather we celebrated our nuptials, John. None of which involve other people, and the majority which don't involve clothing."

"There'll be plenty of time for _that_ later on tonight, and on our honeymoon. Mycroft said he's already booked our flights."

Sherlock rolled his eyes in distain. "Of course he has..."

"Two weeks in the south of France. Should be amazing."

"Two whole weeks? Think of all the cases we might miss!"

"Don't worry, Sherlock. I can think of _a lot_ of ways to keep you entertained until we get home. I have a feeling we won't be leaving the hotel room much in those two weeks."

A smirk spread across Sherlock's face and he held John a little closer. "Remind me to pack the riding crop."

John stifled his laugh against Sherlock's shoulder. The couple swayed together to the soft music without speaking for a while, just holding each other, blind to all the other guests dancing around them. They moved in a slow circle, their foreheads pressed together and their eyes close. John couldn't wipe the blissful smile off his face and Sherlock couldn't remember a time when he had been happier, even though he still wished that he and his new husband could be alone together instead of surrounded by party guests.

"Exactly when is the socially acceptable time that we can leave?" Sherlock whispered.

"Soon, love," John said, gently stroking Sherlock's high cheekbones and looking into his eyes. "We can make our excuses once this song is over. It is _our_ wedding, after all. Mycroft can keep this reception going for as long as he wants, but that doesn't mean we have to stay."

Sherlock smiled. "Good. I'd much rather we were back at the flat. Then we can proceed to consummating this marriage of ours."

"You certainly have a one-track mind today."

"Can you blame me? We've just become Dr and Mr. Holmes-Watson and you happen to look devilishly handsome in that suit."

John laughed. "You'll get bored of me eventually. Give it a few years."

"I will never get bored of you, John."

"And I'm sure I will never be bored with you, Sherlock."

"I'll make sure of it."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the fluff, Humble Readers.

xxx


End file.
